Just Open Your Eyes
by foreverfalling10
Summary: I want so much to open your eyes, cause I need you to look into mine Post 2x23 Twilight, KateGibbs, Contains Character Death.


**A/N **This is a post Twilight fic (yet another, I can write other stuff, I promise) Just the usual disclaimers, the characters aren't mine (Bellisario's), and the lyrics aren't mine (Snow Patrol's). If you enjoy the story (or not!) please leave me a review. I'd much appreciate some constructive critism. Many thanks to dizzy-dreamer (Sammie) for betaing this for me.

"_The anger swells in my guts  
And I won't feel these slices and cuts  
I want so much to open your eyes  
Cos I need you to look into mine"_

**Open Your Eyes – Snow Patrol**

Bang.

Squelch.

Thud.

_Silence - _pure, suffocating silence.

Instinctively he falls to his knees, arms sheltering his head, fingers interlaced at the top of his neck, listening for more gunfire. His heart constricts, bile rising in his throat as he listens frantically for a sound _(the scuff of a shoe, the scrape of a limb, a slow breath)_ so that he knows she's ok. He hears nothing, only the pounding of his heart in his chest and the deep shaky breaths he identifies as his own. He counts to ten _(1…2…3…4…5…)_ in his head, then slowly rolls over, lying on his side, using his hands to push himself up into an awkward sitting position.

That's when he sees her. She rests on her side, right arm tucked under her cheek, left splayed at an un-natural angle behind her. Her legs are twisted; the right bent completely at the knee, drawn right in against her body, the left resting against it, bent slightly at the knee. She could almost pass for sleeping if it wasn't for the ever-expanding halo of vibrant crimson blood seeping out from under her head.

He swallows, forcing the vomit rising in his throat back into his stomach. _Control yourself marine,_ he thinks, staring at her fallen form. He shuffles towards her slowly and extends a shaking hand, resting it on her shoulder, turning her carefully over. She's still warm. _ Ducky would have my guts for this, disturbing his crime scene, _he thinks, remembering the time he pushed a young French cop off a cliff. But this is **_Kate_**; it's different. So very different. He smoothes the curtain of hair away from her pale face, his eyes half closed, not wanting to see her like… like _this_. Her once warm brown eyes are closed, the lids shut tightly over them. Her lips are turned upwards in an almost imperceptible smile. She was smiling when he killed her.

"Katie…" he breathes, his eyes avoiding the large red welt in the centre of her forehead. His hand rests on the pale flesh of her cheek, feeling the warmth seep into his skin. The irrational part of him wills her to open her eyes, for her lids to flutter slowly, and then slowly open, for the warm brown orbs to gaze up at him, filled with confusion for a brief moment. He wills her to sits up, to laugh at him for his worry, for her to giggle softly when he tells her how worried he was, for her to find it absurd that he thought she… she'd gone.

He hears the wail of sirens in the background, the pitch increasing as he they get closer and closer. His eyes blur, causing him to blink fiercely. _Marines don't cry, come on; suck it up!_

"C'mon sweetheart." He says squeezing her shoulder even though he knows it's useless. The sound of footsteps on the stairs behind him echo louder and louder until the strong wooden door crashes open. He turns around, staring into the familiar face wearing a mask of worry.

"Ducky…" He whispers, his hand still resting on her shoulder, feeling the warmth seep from her into him. He closes his deep blue eyes, willing the transition to be the other way around, for him to channel come of his warmth into her. Ducky slowly walks towards him, his face ashen, tears visible in his eyes.

"Oh Caitlin…" Ducky sighs, dropping to his knees to crouch beside her. A shaking hand rests at the curve of her jaw, feeling for the absent pulse. He sighs again, harder this time, allowing the hand to fall back and rest uselessly on his knee.

"She's gone Duck," He says, his voice wavering slightly, "That fucking sonofabitch…" He tailed off mid-sentence, unsure of how to put his grief and anger into words. Ducky nods slowly, turning away and slowly clambering to his feet. He doesn't notice the older man's departure, doesn't notice him going to collect the gurney and sheets to protect her from the stares and hushed voices; instead, continuing to inspect her pale face. He memorises the curve of her jaw, her pretty features, the way her hair falls into her face so that he never forgets how she looks.

"I'm sorry…" He whispers, so quietly that he was unsure if it was ever said. He sinks his teeth into a quivering lip, and is startled when he feels moisture pouring down his cheeks. He realises he is crying.


End file.
